


♡ A Collection of Softness ♡

by inkleafclover



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, post episode 12, really its just fluff, to cheer you up if you're having a hard time, with minimal angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 03:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11797746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkleafclover/pseuds/inkleafclover
Summary: Sweet, soft stories about our favorite boys.





	♡ A Collection of Softness ♡

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri just want to nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the tags and any warnings at the top. This is a work of (fan) fiction, and exists for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> I don't explicitly write these characters as trans men, but there is nothing in this chapter that would contradict trans headcanons, so feel free to imagine whatever you like.

Yuuri is always pretty tired when he gets back from the rink, and today is no exception: When he and Viktor get back to Yu-topia, Yuuri stumbles down the hall to Viktor’s room, and flops onto the bed with a groan. He doesn’t even try to get comfortable; he just lies there in the pale, winter sunshine, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey,” Viktor says, peeking inside, “no napping without me.”

“I’m not napping without you,” Yuuri says, then lifts his arms, beckoning. “Come here.”

Viktor, unable to resist, climbs into bed and snuggles up beside him. “Shouldn’t we head to the studio, though?” he asks. “Minako said—”

“She said anytime after twelve. Just a quick nap. Please? I’m exhausted,” says Yuuri, pulling Viktor even closer. They’re both wearing soft, stretchy pants and loose-fitting tees, so their bodies come together like puzzle pieces.

“Mm. I suppose,” Viktor says. He shifts a little, then kisses Yuuri on the forehead. “You did very well today.”

Yuuri warms with the praise.

Sunlight falls in through the window, pooling on the floor and on the bed, and shimmering on the little bits of dust floating around. Everything is so still, so quiet. Viktor lifts a hand to Yuuri’s hair, gently threading his fingers through it. “I really do like how long your hair’s gotten,” he says, his voice low and soft.

“So you’ve said,” Yuuri replies, a smile in his voice.

“Are you going to keep growing it out?” Viktor asks, still petting him.

“I don’t think so. I know you like it, but it keeps getting in my eyes,” says Yuuri.

Viktor pouts.

Yuuri chuckles, and says, “How about this: If you grow yours out, I’ll grow out mine.”

Viktor laughs, then groans. “Ohh, but I like having short hair. It’s so easy,” he says.

“That’s what I’m saying,” Yuuri retorts.

They both laugh. Then Viktor makes a small sound almost like a purr, and nuzzles closer, kissing Yuuri’s nose, then his mouth, and then dipping lower to trail little kisses along his collarbone. His hand moves along Yuuri’s waist, then slowly slides down over his butt, cupping and then lightly squeezing the ample curve of a cheek.

Yuuri giggles softly, moaning just a little. “I thought we were napping,” he protests, though not sternly.

“Mm. We were, weren’t we?” Viktor says. He finds Yuuri’s hand, and interlaces their fingers.

They nuzzle each other, exchanging soft, sleepy kisses. There are footsteps and voices coming from somewhere deep in the hotel, and the sounds of distant cars can be heard beyond the window. Moments follow moments, and the two of them subside, gradually drifting off.

Makkachin trots into the room, panting.

Yuuri looks up, then huffs out a laugh.

Viktor smiles. “Looks like she has to go out. I’ll be right back,” he tells Yuuri, and, with a parting kiss on the hand, disappears down the hall with Makkachin. When they return a few minutes later, Makkachin jumps up onto the bed, settling down to one side of Yuuri while Viktor lies down on the other.

“Hm?” Yuuri says, stirring.

“Shh. Go back to sleep,” Viktor says, pulling the blankets over them.

Yuuri snuggles close to Viktor, then sighs, content.

They doze. It’s rather chilly outside, but their shelter under the blankets soon heats, becoming toasty warm. Their faces are centimeters away from each other, their mingled breath warming their noses. Their legs are twined under the blankets, and their chests are almost-but-not-quite touching, their arms thrown over each other’s waists. Makkachin snores gently.

Yuuri’s phone rings.

“Ugh,” Viktor groans.

“Nnn,” Yuuri complains, reaching. “Sorry. I guess I forgot to turn my phone off. Oh, it’s Phichit. Hey, Phichit. What’s up? Oh my gosh. Wow. How many? Oh, that’s so cute. What are you going to do with them?”

Viktor watches Yuuri fondly, his head propped on his elbow.

“Okay, I should go. Send me lots of pictures, okay?” says Yuuri. Then, after a few more goodbyes, he hangs up, and turns to Viktor. “Phichit’s hamsters had babies.”

“Ohh, that’s adorable. I bet they’re so little and cute,” Viktor says.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, smiling. He turns his phone off, then clambers into Viktor’s arms, pushing him onto his back and kissing him all over the side of his face.

Viktor giggles. Then he rolls over, turning the tables and pinning Yuuri under him. Makkachin stirs, her tail wagging back and forth.

Yuuri laughs, and cries, “Viktor, get off! You’re heavy.”

“Oh, am I? Maybe it’s all that ‘katsudon’ I had last night,” he says roguishly.

“Viktor!” Yuuri cries, blushing. “You can’t just—say things like that!”

“What? I was grateful for the meal,” Viktor purrs, nuzzling Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri moans, low. “Viktor. No fair,” he says.

Viktor chuckles. Rolling back onto his side, he kisses Yuuri’s nose, running his hand up and down Yuuri’s arm affectionately. “We should do another pair skate next year,” he says.

“Yeah?” says Yuuri. His cheeks are very pink.

“If you want to,” Viktor adds.

“Of course I want to,” Yuuri replies, stroking Viktor’s cheek with his thumb.

Viktor smiles.

Yuuri kisses Viktor sweetly on the lips. Then he gathers himself, and says, “Okay. We should actually nap now.”

“Okay,” Viktor agrees. “Nap time.”

They’ve just gotten resettled under the blankets when Yuri enters the room. Makkachin leaps from the bed and bounds right up to him, dancing all around him with her tail wagging furiously. Viktor and Yuuri share a look and a laugh.

Yuri, staring at them, goes from pale to very, very red in about two seconds. “What are you doing?” he stammers.

“Well, we were trying to take a nap,” Viktor replies, amused.

“Oh,” says Yuri.

“Did you need something?” Viktor prompts him.

“I—I just wanted to ask you guys about—” Yuri says, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. Then he turns abruptly, saying, “I’ll come back.”

“No! Stay, Yurio. It’s fine, ” Yuuri says.

Yuri stops. At length, he turns around, but he still doesn’t make eye contact. “I just wanted to ask you if—what’s the best way to find out if someone likes you as more than a friend?” he asks, fidgeting.

“You mean Ota—?” Viktor starts to say, but Yuuri slaps a hand over his mouth.

Yuri bristles, embarrassed. “I’m not talking about Otabek,” he cries.

“Of course not,” Yuuri says, his tone placating. “Come on, Yurio. Sit down.”

Yuri looks like he wants to run, but after a moment, he sits down on the bed, and Makkachin hops up and joins them.

The three of them talk for a quite a while after that, though it’s mostly Viktor laughing while Yuri shouts, and poor Yuuri trying his best to give Yuri some actual advice. Eventually the sky beyond the window clouds over, and snow begins to fall in fat clumps. Yuuri’s mother peeks in on them at one point, bearing a tray laden with cups of hot cocoa.

Yuuri didn’t really get to nap for all that long, but as he looks around at the people he loves, he decides he doesn’t really mind.

**Author's Note:**

> About the author: haha, not much to say. I just like to write, and I like when people like my stuff. FYI I’m on both tumblr and twitter as inkleafclover.  
>   
> I'll probably be adding more little stories to this collection as inspiration comes.  
>   
> 


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